It's a HardKnock Life
by Lee Kennedy
Summary: harry's parents die and he gets sent to live with his relitives, while there he gets framed and sent to juvie, where he meets draco. written for a challenge. rape only implied, i don't descibe it and it dosn't happen to harry HPDM other minor pairings
1. Why Me?

Disclaimer: characters don't belong to me, though don't I wish.

I still can't believe this is happening to me. I never did anything to deserve this. Ever. I'm a good kid, the kind that helps old ladies and gets good grades and graduates high school to get a good job. I shouldn't be here. I don't belong in a place like this. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for fucking Dudley and his damn Tigers. It had all started about six months ago, when I had had to go live with my mum's sister, Petunia Dursley. I can still remember my first day there…

The boy got out of the back seat of the car cautiously. He still couldn't believe his parents were dead. They had been so young, so happy. He had just seen them the day before, smiling and telling him good-bye. They had been on their way to France for James Potter's tour kickoff. Lilly and James Potter had died tragically, but no one seemed to be able to tell him what had happened. All they ever told him was that there was an accident, and that his parents were now dead. He was alone.

He stood now on the front stoop of his only remaining relative. Petunia Dursley was his mum's sister, but they had never gotten along much. When Lilly had married James, the son of a successful businessman and the lead singer of the unknown garage band 'The Marauders', Petunia and her new husband, Vernon Dursley, had completely cut ties with them. Now, Harry was standing on their doorstep, waiting for one of them to answer the door.

He still didn't understand why he had to live with these strangers when Remus Lupin, his father's band mate and best friend, had offered to take him in. He would have rather of lived with him than these people.

When the door finally opened, a very large boy with thin blonde hair stood there, glaring nastily down at Harry. He was dressed in large, ill fitting jeans with large chains hanging from them and what looked like the hilt of a knife sticking out of his pocket. On his large black hooded sweat shirt there was a picture of a tiger with the words 'Live Hard; Die Great' written under it. He also had a black bandana tied around his head tilted at a slight angle and half way covered by a black beanie. All in all he looked very intimidating and Harry almost turned around and started running after the retreating taxi he had come in.

Swallowing nervously, Harry stuck out his hand and said quickly, "Hi, I'm Harry Potter, the boy who the lawyer talked to your mum about."

The boy standing in the doorway didn't change his facial expression at all. He looked down at Harry's hand and then back up at the boy in front of him. Sweeping his eyes over Harry's fitted, stylish designer jeans, his casual button down shirt that had the sleeves rolled up half way to his elbow, his clear skin and his styled yet messy hair, the boy snorted and spit into Harry's hand instead of shaking it. "Fuckin' faggot," he muttered, turning back into the house and slamming the door behind him.

That day had been utter hell for Harry, who had never been treated in such a way before. Moments after the boy had disappeared, the door had opened once again to reveal another very large man and a skinny, horse-faced woman. They had been glaring down at him in quite the same way the boy had, and Harry was hesitant to speak.

After a long moment of silence, the woman finally spoke. "What the hell do you want? Whatever it is you're selling, we don't want any, so get lost."

"Umm…I'm not selling anything, ma'am. My name is Harry Potter, and you spoke to my parents' lawyer yesterday about me. I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something, but I was told you were expecting me."

"Watch that cheek, boy, or I'll knock it out of you," the large man standing beside the horse-faced woman growled menacingly. Harry's eyes widened imperceptibly as his heart rate sped up slightly. What kind of home had those damn lawyers landed him in? No one had _ever_ threatened to hit him before, and he wasn't exactly sure how to respond to the man whom he guessed was his uncle.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in here before someone sees you just standing there." Walking back into the house, the man and woman left the door open for him to enter, not even offering to help Harry with all of his luggage.

Struggling under the weight of his many bags, Harry followed his aunt and uncle into the main room, putting his stuff down and waiting for them to tell him what to do next. When no instructions were forthcoming, he decided to take his chances with asking. "Er, sir, where am I to put my bags?" he asked timidly, not wanting the brute to threaten to knock the cheek out of him again.

Looking over at the well-dressed boy standing in his family room, Vernon Dursley narrowed his eyes in contempt and ordered him to follow him. He took the boy he and his wife had been saddled with up the stairs to the bedroom that was filled with old and broken toys from Dudley's (their son) childhood. "You can stay in this room. Just don't touch anything. Dinner is at 4 o'clock. Can you cook?" Harry shook his head, having never have had to cook a meal in his life. "Well, you'll have to learn. As long as you're staying under this roof you will earn your keep."

"But, sir, isn't the lawyer paying you and your family to take care of me?" Harry asked, his feelings of anger at being referred to as just a freeloading burden momentarily overshadowing his fear of the man standing before him.

Vernon backhanded the boy standing before him with enough force the knock over a tree and Harry fell back onto the bed, his hand instinctively moving up to his stinging cheek. "I thought I told you to watch the cheek, boy!" Vernon bellowed, his face going a wonky puce color. "I will not be back talked in my own home, especially by some uppity little brat who seems to think they're better than us." Walking out of the door, Vernon slammed it behind him, and Harry heard him thundering down the stairs, still yelling about ungrateful little brats.

Leaning back unto the bed, Harry rubbed his cheek. He could feel it starting to bruise already, and his eyes started to tear up. _What did I do to deserve this? _he asked silently to whatever god was up in heaven. _Is it because I'm gay? Is that it? Are you punishing me because of that? Did you take my fucking parents away and then stick me here with these awful people because of that? Tell me, damn it! _

Not really expecting an answer, he curled up onto the bed and sobbed to himself quietly, not wanting to incur the wrath of the Dursleys anymore than he had already. After about thirty minutes of crying and cursing everyone from his parents to the lawyers to God for making him end up in the hell he was in now, Harry finally fell asleep, his out look on the future not looking all that bright.

A/N: This was written for a challenge. If you liked it, leave a review. Please and thank you. Also posted at adultfan. for the chapters rated NC17. Won't go over R here.


	2. OH MY GOD!

Disclaimer: characters don't belong to me, though don't I wish.

The next couple of weeks were almost unbearable for Harry. He was expected to get up before everyone else in the house and make breakfast, then wash the dishes and clean the house. Around noon he made lunch, then worked out in the yard mowing the grass, trimming the bushes, and weeding the garden. After super he was sent up to the room he was staying in while Vernon and Petunia watched the news and Dudley went out with his gang, the Tigers, which he was the leader of, and spent the night beating kids up and vandalizing public property.

Most of the time he was home by one in the morning, and the three of them would trudge up the stairs, Vernon checking in on Harry to make sure he was in bed. One night, though, while Harry was sitting up in his room, there was a loud crash down stairs and worried voices talking very fast at around ten o'clock. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could hear random words here and there like blood, stabbing, Polkiss, and Harry mention.

Though he was curious as to what was happening, he didn't dare go down to see what was wrong. Figuring he would find out what had happened in the morning, Harry lie down on his bed and fell to sleep almost immediately, so exhausted from his day of work that he didn't hear his door slowly creaking open or the person creeping across the room, hiding the bloodied sweatshirt and knife where they could easily be found if one looked.

jkhajhfajheuhankuighajen>>>>

That morning, Harry was rudely awakened by a horde of cops bursting through his door, shouting at him to not move and pointing their guns at him. Sitting up in his bed, Harry looked around the room bewilderedly, but as he slowly came awake, his eyes widened and he froze in shock and fear. When he recovered enough to respond, he raised his arms above his head and looked around wildly. Petunia, Vernon and Dudley were all standing behind the police with smug, confident expressions.

When Harry saw their pleased faces he really began to worry. The only time Dudley _EVER_ looked happy was when he know something truly awful was about to happen to Harry. He was brought back from his musings on what terrible fate was about to befall him when one of the officers came forward and threw a black hooded sweatshirt with a tiger on the front and blood spattered on it, along with a silver switch-blade onto his bed.

Harry looked up from the items lying on his bed to the officer who had put them there and instinctively leaned back away from the look of hatred in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice seemed to hold the same disdain that his expression had, and Harry had to fight not to cringe back again. "Harry James Potter, you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Piers Polkiss.You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law

You have the right to an attorney and to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you at no cost. During any questioning, you may decide at any time to exercise these rights, not answer any questions or make any statements. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"(A/N: I don't think they have the Miranda Rights in England, but I'm adding them here because I think it makes it sound more like a real arrest. That and I have no clue how people are arrested in Britain, so I'll just stick with the American way.)

Harry just stared at the man, baffled at what was happening. When he didn't answer the question, the man asked again, leaning in and invading his personal space. Harry nodded his head distractedly, not knowing what, exactly, he was saying yes to.

After he had given his answer, two of the other officers roughly pulled him off the bed and handcuffed his arms behind his back. They then lead him past the Dursleys, down the stairs and out of the house to the waiting police cars. As he got inot the backseat of the first car, harry looked over to where the Dursleys were standing. They all still had triumphant expressions on their faces, and Harry was sure that they had something to so with this whole mess.

jkzshdghbajkdhaghencfaghsdy>>>>

The trial didn't last long. Though the Polkiss boy was now in a stable condition, Harry was still being charged with attempted murder, which would mean he'd spend most of his young life in prison if he were found guilty, which he was.

Despite the fact that Harry had declared his innocence innumerous times and had told the judge that the knife and hoodie found in his room were not his but Dudley's and the Dursleys were conspiring against him, nobody had believed him. It was his word against the Dursley's, and somehow they had also gotten the other boys from the Tigers to testify against him as well.

So that is how Harry James Potter, orphaned son of James Potter and Lily Evans, came to be in his current predicament. His only solace as he had been carted away to Hogwarts School for Juvenile Delinquents was the fact that, since he was no longer abiding under their roof, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were no longer getting the support checks the lawyers had been sending. Harry had found the looks on their faces when they were told this bit of news very amusing indeed. It almost made the whole idea of being incarcerated worth it. Almost.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I didn't want to spend to much time on Harry's arrest and trial, so I condensed them into one chappie.

**_The next chapter:_** - Harry meets his cellmate; Harry and Draco argue; we meet Zach.


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